


grass where you lay

by Wrennydennydoo



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: Amnesia, Gen, Impa isn't helpful, Twilight is a wolf, Wild has Trauma and we're making him deal with it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:28:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22444849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrennydennydoo/pseuds/Wrennydennydoo
Summary: “Impa, elder,” Link croaks later, over a earthenware mug of tea. “Where I look all I see is pain. I don’t think I can fix this.”“Careful of your throat,” Impa admonishes, instead of addressing his anxiety. “If you damage your voice any more, it won’t be able to heal itself. The wounds will scar over in time.” Decidedly unhelpful, Link decides. Impa has a way of speaking that makes him feel like he’s missing a joke. It probably has something to do with the ever-frustrating, ever-waiting expectation of memory.
Relationships: Link & Mipha (Legend of Zelda), Link & Prince Sidon, Twilight & Wild (Linked Universe)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 122





	grass where you lay

He wakes up empty. Empty and cold. There is no-one where he is, in the blue room; barely any things. The chests contain clothing that fits. A platform near the exit, with a slate that tells him where to go, and the outdoors-- oh, the _sunlight_ . It is bright, and it is warm, and something inside of him bursts in a dewy morning. He is awake, and being asleep _sucked._ Not that he knew he was asleep. 

After the first graceful, beautiful morning, he is alone for months after the King’s ghost leaves him. His first step is stockpiling anything he can find-- Food, weapons, food, body parts, shiny things, tools, materials. The first month he doesn’t leave the campfire near the resurrection shrine, nor does he re enter it. With the slate keeping time for him, eventually he begins to wander. There are more shrines. There are more monsters too, and empty dirt pathways where people once walked. Despite a present reminder of days passing, the land remains utterly abandoned and therefore timeless. 

If the ghost King wasn’t a hallucination (which seems more and more likely under presented evidence), then someone did fail this land. Someone failed, here. Someone fell. Maybe it was him. 

What the slate counts as month four-and-a-half changes him. It’s a ruined bridge and a bokoblin attacking-- a hylian! 

After an exciting rescue, he doesn’t know… he doesn’t think he can talk. He didn’t talk to the ghost-King but a response is needed because the Hylian is asking question after question after question: “What’s your name where are you headed Kakariko is down this way to the right at the fork in the road and I can repay you for the rescue later,” Says the slightly hysterical young man. 

“...Name’s Link,” Link says. That’s what the princess (?) and the ghost King (???) called him. Good a name as any. Is it odd to hear voices? The princess keeps talking to him, telling him to keep moving and warning of the danger that the moon seems to hold. The voice doesn’t seem normal, but he can’t ask the young and chattering man. 

Without any other idea of choice, Link heads down the road to Kakariko. 

Everything seems to happen all at once. Elder Impa knows him, calls him _Link_ and _dearest one_ with no prompting. The sheikah places weight on his existence, give him responsibility and a title and food and housing while he’s in Kakariko even though he arrived a day ago. Impa wants him to leave. “You are still Zelda’s champion,” she says. “You have a duty to uphold. You must reclaim the divine beasts.” 

_I don’t remember my responsibility,_ Link wants to say (but cannot). _I don’t remember anything. I don’t even remember her face._

The memories don’t come back. Nor does it get better; as one month passes since recieving the bewildering truth about his-- heritage? Inheritance? Past and future?-- from Elder Impa, he feels just as lost and confused. The Sheikah Slate’s map is incomplete, and it’s easier to focus on repairing that damage than his missing memories, or even his apocalypse-sized failure to protect the land Link passes through. He approaches the Zora, but most if not all of them _know_ him. _Personally._ And none of them understand that he cannot talk for very long, nor that he cannot remember them. But Prince Sidon insists that the Champion live among the Zora, because he will eventually fix what he broke. 

Link doens’t stay long. He has electric arrows to find, and preferably without getting smashed to death by a Lynel. Other places to explore first. 

He stumbles by chance across the Gerudo, and then the Rito, neither of whom recognize him. _Champion’s descendant_ is what the Rito say to his face, not whispering like the Sheika or following his every move like the Zora. There is another champion’s descendant in Rito village, Teba, so Link is not so special. He even solves Vah Medoh’s corruption first, the friendliness of the inhabitants and the concern for their impatient children encouraging him to stay longer. 

To his surprise, the champion of the Rito lingers inside their divine beast, making accusations and hissing as Link makes his way through the divine beast. He feels low-- Revali knew him before the failure. Revali knew he would fail all along. Why was he chosen, if not to fail? 

Revali knows the truth. And guilt drives Link, and he cannot stay in Rito village either. 

“Impa, elder,” Link croaks later, over a earthenware mug of tea. “Where I look all I see is pain. I don’t think I can fix this.” 

“Careful of your throat,” Impa admonishes, instead of addressing his anxiety. “If you damage your voice any more, it won’t be able to heal itself. The wounds will scar over in time.” 

_Decidedly unhelpful_ , Link decides. Impa has a way of speaking that makes him feel like he’s missing a joke. It probably has something to do with the ever-frustrating, ever-waiting expectation of memory. 

Nowhere to belong. Cannot stay anywhere for long, and it begins to run him down. 

So Link buys a house. 

The house is bracingly, utterly empty. He has bought it, and it is his. The empty space has potential. Link figures it can’t be too hard to fill a house with things. He should dump all the travel gear out on the ground, maybe talk to Bolson outside of Hateno about getting furniture, but it’s already getting into early evening. And Link. Just wants to sleep. 

_I have a house,_ he thinks.

_Maybe I had one before._

That makes him feel numb. No, he’ll talk to Bolson about furniture later. For now, the cozy corner by the fireplace looks comfortable enough. 

In all honesty, this is about what he should have expected about home ownership. Link has Bolson install an actual door, and he puts together a makeshift bed frame himself. All his armor is neatly laid out on the floor in various stages of repair. The best taken care-of object is the cooking pot. Bolson mentions this a few weeks after Link buys the house. 

“I noticed you haven’t been around recently,” He remarks, approaching him in the general store. Link shrugs. “For a young man who seemed eager to own a house, you’re not in town often. If you’re in any trouble,” Bolson puts his hand on Link’s shoulder; Link flinches. 

“...If you need anything, Karson and I live right over the hill.” 

He signs a quivering thanks in return before he flees. 

He thought it would be nice, having a storage place for the extra weapons and armor, but it was already a bad day and now he feels like he’s failing. Everyone in Hateno knows he lives on the hill, but he only barely lives there. All his things can be moved in a moment. Link’s owned a house for three weeks and has only slept in it two nights. Why does that make him want to leave Hateno? 

Bolson’s offer of help, regardless of what concern it came from, was kindly meant. _What about me says I need help?_ Link wonders. _Constantly in and out of town. Always injured. Doesn’t talk to the neighbors. Doesn’t talk to anyone. And you wonder why they’re concerned._ Distantly, he remembers the two village women by the well staring at him earlier. He had waved, but in this mind space those stares are unfriendly. Hateno is too small. 

In the drizzly evening air, Link dashes to the abandoned house and grabs bags. Weaponry. Food. Hateno is only one town. He can go elsewhere. The world isn’t meant to spin; best to leave until it settles. 

_Little hero, nowhere to go,_ the voice taunts. It’s wrong. He _does_ have somewhere to go. Rito Village was very friendly the first time around. The inn there will do for a night, or he could head to the flight range. Teba said he was welcome any time; while that didn’t necessarily apply at night, the morning would bring less solitude. 

As soon as Link’s body pulls together in front of the shrine, he knows it would have been better at one of the more crowded stables. It’s below freezing here. A strong wind whips his hair heavily against his ears, which will be frozen soon. To make matters worse, the inn is closed; most of the nests curled around Vah Medoh’s roost have drawn down makeshift walls of canvas to protect from the blizzard. 

There are only two hours until dawn. Link is sleepy and now cold. He could find somewhere warmer perhaps, in a Hylian inn where people remark at his scars and want to make conversation; or maybe return to Zora’s Domain, where the soldiers recognize him and Sidon follows his every move. 

Or he could remain here by the fire and wait until morning. Two hours. Not that bad.

That’s how Teba finds him; he stumbles across Link sitting crosslegged on the ground. The sun is barely frowning above the horizon.

“...Come with me,” Teba says, and it makes Link feel small. He isn’t sure why. 

Rito village and the anonymity that comes with was a shocking, silent relief the first time he was there. Now it just feels lonely. Beyond that first command, Teba doesn’t comment on Link’s unexpected arrival in the night. Saki fusses and chitters her concerns-- staying up all night, and in this snow, too! Even the champion’s _descendant_ needs rest and warmth. Hypothermia can still damage the body, no matter how brave! Foolish to stay outside on the platform when inside is welcome and warm. 

Link protests with his hands, but Teba remains silent in translation. All of his protests would be washed away by Saki anyways. 

Fed and sleepy in the warmth of Teba and Saki’s nest, the blizzard rages outside. In the comfort of an extra hammock and a pile of blankets, Link wonders how he walked through that vengeful hail and wasn’t blown off the mountain. Teba and Saki’s little chick, bored of the new concept of “inside” introduced by insulated partitions surrounding most of Rito Village, begins hounding LInk for weapon information. _“She’s at the age where battle is only on her mind,”_ he signs at Teba’s hosting concerns. _Train her now, she’ll take it seriously._

“She shouldn’t need to be trained,” Teba replies, a far cry from his warrior spirit before fighting Vah Medoh. The chick is fascinated by the Great Eagle Bow. With her dark eyes, something of Revali’s confidence will shine through them. It’s already there, a little bit. 

Morning, though resting on the eaves of the roof, doesn’t shine through the snow storm. The wind roaring outside lulls Link into a trancelike daydream. Mipha’s face was beautiful, he knows, because of her statue. Her voice was gentle. He knows he knew her as a child. If her ghost lingers inside of Vah Ruta, could she tell him where he grew up? Did she know his family? _Did I have a mother? Did I have a brother, or a sister?_

Prince Sidon had been incredibly kind considering the death of his sister. 

But a whole city’s worth of people he had betrayed… The only Zora who didn’t remember what he had done were the children. Prince Sidon himself was barely above that mark, and yet Link had been humiliatingly known by everyone. It was all fine and good for the palace guards to talk about going fishing with him a hundred years ago, but every time one of them pulled out a memorable clumsy child-Link from their memories it just made him feel ashamed. _You failed your people,_ the little mean voice in his head said. _Barely older than a child. Run home, if you can find it._ All the Zora with all their knowledge of who he used to be… 

Kaneli, the elder Rito, barely remembered the Calamity. The villages of bird-folk spread throughout the mountains were largely unaffected. While they did experience more isolation, and there were more food shortages, everywhere Link had seen was making ends meet just fine. Rito village was the sole exception. It was closest to Hyrule, and had been directly involved in preventing Ganon purely to further trade with the neighbors. They lost entire families of warriors. Children were trained to fight in order to protect the elders and siblings remaining. All of them had lost something, even if it was harder to remember it in the shorter life spans of birds. 

Teba had lost his mother and his cousin and his grandfather, Revali. The dislike of being under Hylian command ran in family lines, and the resentment was still there, Link had discovered, but not so strong, and not for the Champion’s descendent come to right the wrongs of the past. 

What a lie. What a fraud. 

That’s the thought he falls asleep with-- _little champion, little liar._


End file.
